Trade Your Trespasses
by Frog-Lizard
Summary: Frog: The passing of leadership is never a simple one. Times have changed. Cybertron has changed. In the end, there can be no nuetrals in war, only soldiers and casualties. The Decepticons are in charge of Dolhearac now, and the forced alliance between Seekers and Gliders is shaping up to be a ticking time-bomb. Dolhearan Legacy Part 2
1. Chapter 1: Liars and Thieves

A/N: If you haven't read "_Where Angels Fall_" you're going to want to do that first :P

See, you didn't have to wait long for the sequel! And has anyone noticed that Megatron is curiously fun to write? XD I think I'm going to enjoy this story!

And in case anyone forgot: Fledgling=Adolescent (early teens)

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**Chapter 1: Liars and Thieves**

Dolhearac was an…interesting place, Megatron had decided. Their walls were high, yet not half the scale of those that guarded their Magistrate's optics. They were known as expert marksman, yet he had been more impressed by the pointed jabs that often passed between the guards and his own Seekers. They were fragile-looking creatures, and he was yet to see a male of their frame type (at least he didn't think he had, it was rather hard to tell), yet every one of them put on a brave face as though nothing could break them.

Such facades could only last so long.

"Is there something you find amusing about me, Megatron?"

The Decepticon warlord refocused his optics at his newfound ally. The newly elected Magistrate Powderain of Dolhearac. Now there was an unthreatening sounding name if he had ever heard one. It was almost insulting to be associated with her for that reason alone.

"Not at all, my dear," he smirked easily, leaning back in the chair that was much too small for him, but the only vacant one currently available in the Magistrate's office. The pink and blue femme (the intimidation factor scale did not have a low enough setting) quirked an optic ridge at him.

"Then why, might I ask, are you smiling like that?"

"I should think you to be smiling as well, and yet you are not," he sighed, "After all, it's not every orn either of our factions has the chance to plan the end of this drawn-out war Cybertron has been embroiled in," his optics narrowed, "I am curious, why _did_ you extend the offer of allegiance if you and yours so clearly want nothing to do with the war?"

Her slender fingers drummed once on the surface of the desk, "I felt it was time for change. As I said in my address, I no longer think it's feasible for Dolhearac to ignore the war. After weighing the options, I believed the Decepticons were the best choice."

"Yes, I have heard the lie before," he watched silently as the wings attached to her hips twitched, "But I suppose I do not care what your true motives are, so long as they don't ultimately derail my plans. If you will cooperate with me, I will cooperate with you…and whatever it is that you're after, I will…_see_ what I can do to help you gain it."

Powderain frowned, settling further back into her own chair with a look of unease, "I suppose the leader of the Decepticons would know how to spot a liar."

He smirked, "A lesson I expect you to keep in mind in future meetings."

She nodded, a barely discernible shudder running through her frame. Megatron felt a twisted since of pity for her. She was so new to this leadership thing. But what better time to mold Dolhearac into the shape he saw fit for it than in the fresh energon of a new Magistrate? Whatever circumstance had brought her to him be praised.

Or perhaps it should be damned. He cared not, so long as he was at benefit. Dolhearac could suffer and die for all he cared. All of Cybertron was to come under his rule eventually, after all. The gliders would simply have more time to adjust than say…Praxus would.

And that was assuming he didn't grow impatient and bomb the Autobot province first.

The door to the Magistrate's office opened with a disgruntled shout from the guard stationed outside. Megatron glanced mildly at his second in command as Starscream stormed in the door. He had been doing that a lot lately. Someone, he couldn't quite remember whom, had warned the Decepticon warlord that Seekers and Dolhearans did not mix, but he hadn't thought to take the warning seriously until Powderain and Starscream started snipping at each other from the first introduction. As far as he knew, physical violence had yet to break out between the two flight-enabled frame-types, but it was a ticking time bomb.

All the more reason for him to question the Magistrate's decision to side with the Decepticon cause. If she didn't like Seekers—scratch that—if _everyone_ in the entire slagging province loathed Seekers with such a fiery passion, why side with the faction that had them in abundance?

Powderain was on her feet the moment Starscream entered the room, prompting Megatron to roll his optics at both of them and their inane desire to out-dramatize each other.

"Megatron I must _sincerely_ request you keep your soldiers under control!" the Magistrate snapped, "I do not appreciate these constant interruptions and one of these joors my guard will be seriously injured in Starscream's coarseness!"

The Seeker was quick to retort before Megatron could care to try, "I'm _sorry_, I must have missed the guard standing there. Your soldiers are rather short, perhaps you should invest in some taller ones so I don't trample them by mistake."

"Is there a reason for this interruption, Starscream?" Megatron sighed wearily, ignoring the belligerent Dolhearan femme across from them.

The Seeker didn't answer him directly, instead yelling sharply out into the hall, "Fledgling! Front and center _now_!"

Megatron's optic ridges rose as a relatively small Seekeress sidled into the room, helm bowed. He noted the yellow Dolhearan insignia on her chassis and gave Powderain a curious look. The Magistrate just stood on her side of the desk looking rather ill.

"What is this youngling doing here?" Starscream growled, directing a glare at the Dolhearan femme.

Powderain set her jaw, "She was found abandoned in the Spires as a sparkling. Magistrate Symmetry took pity on her unfortunate state and raised her as her own. With Symmetry's passing, she has now become my ward."

The Seeker sneered, "Then allow me to remove you from that ill-assigned duty."

"That is not your call to make. Kitetails is old enough to make her own decisions and—"

"And what? You think she would choose the likes of _you_? That she would wish to remain among inferior fliers now that she has the chance to return to her rightful place?" he scoffed.

The fledgling finally raised her head, optics wide in alarm, "I—"

"_Silence_!" she cowered under the older Seeker's snarl. Megatron merely watched the proceedings with a mix of amusement and disgust.

"Who do you think you are, yelling at her like that!" Powderain shouted, hopping on top of her desk so that she could stand optic-to-optic with the much taller mech, "Leave the child alone! She doesn't have to listen to the likes of you!"

"Oh so that's it," Starscream snorted, "You're trying to make her _hate_ her own frame type, aren't you? Enforcing your own view on such an impressionable child."

"W-what? No! I have never—"

"Clearly," Starscream hissed, crossing his arms. Behind him the fledglings was shaking to the point her armor was starting to rattle. Powderain's anger dissipated to concern.

"Kitetails? Are you alright?"

"N-no…" the fledgling managed to cough out.

Starscream sighed heavily, "You are free to go fledgling. We will discuss this later."

"How dare you assume that—"

"You have no idea what you're dealing with here, do you…" Starscream asked dully as the fledgling paused in the doorway.

The Dolhearan femme's optics darted between the two Seekers and then to Megatron, who just didn't care, and back to Starscream, "What do you mean?"

The Decepticon second-in-command huffed, nearly laughing as he set one hand on his hip and the other on Kitetail's shoulder, "Seeker younglings are programmed to obey their elders. It's how we keep them safe."

He smirked in satisfaction at the look of horror that passed over Powderain's features moments before she covered it with an expressionless mask.

"As I said," he continued with a shrug, "She is no longer under your care. _I_ will be handling her training and development from now on," he then added under his breath, "And for _your_ sake, whatever damage you've done better not be irreversible."

He removed his hand from Kitetail's shoulder, letting her quickly escape the room, but not before she shared a pained looked with a helpless Powderain. Whatever passed between their optics in that moment, Megatron was not sure he could name even if he had the desire to try. All he knew was that he saw a deep-set agony, and that it further raised his suspicions of the Magistrate and her intentions.

Because in that one, fleeting look, he knew that some part of her plan had already gone terribly wrong.


	2. Chapter 2:Adjustments

A/N: If you haven't read "_Where Angels Fall_" you're going to want to do that first :P

Another short chapter. Just trying to set up the new characters, both canon and OC, as well as some future conflicts that are going to come up. I actually have two new OCs for "Tresspasses", I guess to kind of replace the two we lost after "WAF" XD...ok, I shouldn't do an "XD" face there, it was a tragic experience for all involved DX There, that's better :D ... D: Whatever...

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**Chapter 2: Adjustments**

"I don't get it," Villanelle huffed finally, dropping herself into a chair as the femme across from her quietly nursed her energon.

"Does anyone?" Sundew murmured, pushing another cube of energon towards the Border Commander in a silent urging for her to refuel.

Villanelle stared at the offered energy for a moment before giving in and downing as much as she could in one gulp, removing it from her lips only long enough to mutter, "Powderain does…hopefully."

"And I trust her to tells us eventually," Sundew sat back in her own chair. Villanelle stewed over that a moment. She didn't know Sundew very well, but she had heard well of her from every femme that did. She had been Civilian Overseer under Magistrate Symmetry, and Powderain had found her fit to continue with her work. She was a high ranking officer, but a humble one, and Villanelle had come to find her strangely…steady, in the turmoil that surrounded the capital sector, and her office was always open.

"I thought I knew her…" she asked at length, her vocalizer sounded uncomfortably squeaky all of a sudden.

Sundew lowered her helm plaintively, "I was in your position once…"

Villanelle lifted her helm minutely, "When was that?"

"A long time ago…when Ariel was still with us. She was the Civilian Overseer and I, her assistant," Sundew's optics grew distant, "She trusted and confided in me, and I dare to say we were good friends," finally her yellow optics fell back on the Border Commander, "And then one orn she up and left, without so much as a goodbye. Symmetry was so distraught, she didn't care to find a new Civilian Overseer and so the position fell into my lap. A position I didn't even want.

The red femme leaned back in her chair, chuckling dryly, "Wisp certainly hated me after that, as though it were somehow my fault. There was always a sense of…bitterness between us, but she grew tolerant with time. I came to think I knew her too, at least as a colleague. And of course we all know how she surprised us as well…"

Villanelle nodded glumly, "And why didn't _she_ say anything? She seemed to know what was going on…"

Her companion raised an optic ridge, "Would anyone have believed her?"

A heavy silence fell between them. The time for a response came and went and both femmes resumed consumption of their energon in silence. As Sundew finished hers and set in on the surface of her desk, she let out a sigh.

"I understand your duties these orns are primarily to watch the rims of the capital sector?"

Villanelle nodded numbly, "Powderain wants me and my best snipers close by. Can't say I blame her what with all the Seekers flying around."

"Are you in close quarters with them?"

The Border Commander gave her a critical look, "Where are you going with this?"

The Civilian Overseer released a heavy sigh, "I received some troubling news earlier from the Magistrate. Apparently Kitetails has been taken under the guardianship of her fellow Seekers."

"Powderain allowed this?" Villanelle snapped, rising to her feet. She would be the first to admit, she wasn't always very fond of the fledgling, but she _knew_ how much Kitetails meant to Powderain.

"According to the notice I received, she wasn't given a choice," Sundew explained with a worried frown, "The Magistrate wishes me to find someone who will be close by to the fledgling, however, and keep tabs on her well being."

Villanelle froze, and ever so slowly, sunk back into her seat, "If what you say is true, I'll keep a sniper's optic out for her at all times. My command post isn't far from where the Seekers have chosen to congregate.."

Sundew smiled warmly, "Thank you, Villanelle. It means a great deal to all of us…And I think it would do Kitetails good to have a familiar face readily available."

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She hadn't known what to think the first time she had seen one of her own close up before. But Kitetails was seriously regretting trying to talk to the Seeker now as she huddled in the corner of a large storage bay that the Decepticon Seekers had turned into their own private recreation area near the rim of the capital sector of Dolhearac. She had eventually had to hide her helm, tired of seeing red optics watching her everywhere she looked.

Some optics had been filled with pity, others disgust, but most she simply could not read as the adult Seekers talked quietly amongst themselves. They were talking about her, she just _knew_ it! And they were probably just as upset and mean as Starscream had been about her being raised in Dolhearac!

"Youngling," a voice addressed from above her. She summoned her best glare, though it really only looked like she was about to cry, as she turned her helm to face the speaker.

It was one of Starscream's lieutenants…part of a trine if she remembered correctly. Whatever that meant… Regardless, Starscream had failed to introduce either of them in his embittered rant all the way over here before he abandoned her in this room to tend to some business she couldn't care less about.

"What?" her vocalizer cracked in her attempt to shout the question, earning a few more looks from the other Seekers.

Starscream's trinemate, the blue one, thankfully (he seemed less frightening than the purple one), gave her a disapproving look, and she tried unsuccessfully to push her and her wings farther into the corner she was hiding in. She half expected him to yank her to her feet, or otherwise boss her around.

Instead, "We have designated quarters for you, if you would follow me."

She stared up at him helplessly, and his optics narrowed, "You can either come of your own free will, or I can order you, your choice."

Kitetails flickered her optics once and then ever so slowly came to her feet. With a nod of approval, the blue Seeker turned towards the room's exit with her trailing behind. Eventually his longer strides became too much and she hurried to catch up to him.

They left the room and Kitetails felt the weight of other optics leave her as they came to a street. The blue Seeker took to the air, and she followed despite the temptation to walk just out of pure stubbornness. But she had decided that she didn't like the way her helm buzzed whenever her programming forced her to obey and order, and so she would do as was expected of her…for now. Besides, if she had some personal quarters, maybe she could be alone for a little while.

They came to a towering building among the city-scape, a recently abandoned hotel that had become Decepticon base of operations in Dolhearac. They did not land on the roof or even the street as she was expecting, instead following the blue Seeker straight to an outlying balcony and transforming.

"Your quarters," he gestured to the adjacent door, "You are to stay and rest until the next orn."

She shifted uncomfortably with a grumble, "Is that an order?"

His optics narrowed at her and he took a step closer. She flinched as he put a firm hand on her shoulder, "Look at me youngling."

Her helm buzzed and she did as she was told. The blue Seeker studied her closely a moment.

"I don't expect you to understand," he said finally, his tone neither angry, nor caring, but perhaps…sympathetic?

"Understand what?" she snapped weakly, "That _you_ don't think I belong out there? That _you_ hate Dolhearac?"

"That and more," he nodded, "But I don't expect you to change your point of view, either."

Her optics widened as he continued, "You've been here too long to change your ways now. At this rate, you will likely always prefer your life in Dolhearac to the life you are to live from now on. This is also something _you_ are going to have to accept."

She put her hands on her hips, "But when I grow up, I can make that choice for myself! I don't have to live as a Decepticon forever!"

"And that is _also_ something you don't understand," he sighed, "Regardless, I am the mech in charge of your well-being from now on. If you behave yourself, I may be willing to let you…visit some of your Dolhearan companions in order to make this transition easier."

Her wings twitched, "You mean it? Do you promise?"

The mech paused before giving a slow nod, "Only so long as you uphold your end of the bargain."

For the first time that orn, Kitetails felt a small smile come to her face a mere moment before she squealed with relieved delight and proceeded to hug her new guardian. The blue Seeker's engine growled a warning and she quickly backed away.

"S-sorry sir—um…"

"Thundercracker," the mech provided with another sigh, "And please, do not do that again."

"Yes sir," she nodded awkwardly.

"Good. Now rest. You begin training tomorrow."

"Training?" she tilted her helm worriedly, "…For what?"

"How to be a Seeker of course."

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Megatron stood impatiently in the large circular room at the spark of Dolhearac's capital sector. What was typically a busy intersection to get to and from the various offices and labs, was now mostly empty simply due to the silver mech's presence. Not that he minded, the sound of clicking heel struts was starting to grate on his nerves.

He faced the room's center, staring blankly into the large, glowing energon crystal suspended before him. An artifact given to them by their founder, or so he had been told. Megatron didn't see the point if it couldn't even be used as a power source. Too tainted by other minerals, they said. Some gift that was…

Finally growing board of the crystal, he looked back over his shoulder at where Soundwave was currently doing research on one of the room's terminals. Powderain had frustratingly refused to give the Communication's Officer much access to their more powerful terminals. Perhaps rightfully so, she didn't quite trust them enough with that. And so Soundwave was forced to try and hack their systems from a public terminal. For as much as Powderain didn't trust Megatron, Megatron trusted her even less.

Not to say he was worried about her. The femme clearly didn't understand what she was up against but he would prefer to not suffer any set-backs by her dainty little hands.

"Soundwave what in the name of Unicron is taking so long?" he finally snapped, exasperated.

Soundwave's hands took a pause, "Public terminal contains limited access."

"And?…" Megatron prompted when the Communication's Officer didn't immediately resume his work.

"Theory: Dolhearan archives are sentient."

The few other Decepticons gathered shared some confused looks and Megatron stalked over to the terminal, "What exactly do you mean by '_sentient'_?"

Soundwave tilted his helm, looking for a way to explain, "Archives are fluid."

Megatron frowned, crossing his arms, "Shockwave! Come translate this for me!"

The purple Decepticon was by his side in an instant and Soundwave repeated his findings. Shockwave hummed contemplatively before trying to put in an interpretation.

"So you mean to say that the data in the archives is always moving, correct?"

Soundwave nodded again, "Affirmative."

"So either the archive system is sentient, or there is someone here who is in direct control of it," Shockwave continued, earning another nod from the Communication's Officer, "Either way, someone is trying to keep us out of the archives."

Megatron growled, "Wonderful…"

"My lord," Shockwave began slowly, "might I speak with the Magistrate? There are some things I wish to ask her in regards to Dolhearac's exports. And perhaps I can also convince her to give us…permissions to sections of the archives?"

Megatron waved his hand disinterestedly, "I've all but lost my patience with that femme for the time being. You are free to do as you will."

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A/N: I'm thinking that Soundwave is more of a new recruit in this universe, hence why Megatron was having trouble understanding him. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Shockwave is important to the plot and therefore needed to be introduced *whistles innocently*


	3. Chapter 3: The Invitation

A/N: If you haven't read "_Where Angels Fall_" you're going to want to do that first :P

So hopefully this will explain some of Powderain's motives. If it doesn't, it will be re-explained in a future chapter where it will hopefull be much clearer. Or if you can't wait that long, you can just ask in a review and I'll clarify what happened.

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**Chapter 3: The Invitation**

"I'm sorry…"

The apology was quiet and pained, as though afraid of its own utterance.

Powderain stood alone on the balcony overlooking the now deserted streets of Dolhearac from which she had given her inaugural address mere orns ago. With no one to see her, the Magistrate's posture was wilted and her pastel paint seemed paler than usual, or perhaps that was just the distant city lights.

Dolhearac had no answer to her apology, regardless of the sincerity behind it. She wondered if it would ever be accepted. It didn't help that she couldn't offer her regrets in public.

The door behind her whisked open, her posture fortified with false pride in the same movement as a guard peeked her head out, "Ma'am, the Decepticon Shockwave wishes to speak with you. Shall we send him off?"

She could tell the guard was honestly hoping she would say 'yes', and she wished for just the same. But the very mentioning of the violet mech's name sent a cold jolt through her circuitry, and she knew she should not take the chance of refusing him.

"I can speak with him here," she announced.

"Yes ma'am," the begrudging reply came, and a moment later, quiet footsteps resounded on the balcony floor.

She steeled her nerves and her tanks and turned to face the mech who was to blame for all her misery.

"Shockwave," she greeted, not even trying to hide the bitterness in her tone, "how long has it been?"

The mech raised his helm, giving her the impression that he was "looking down his nose" at her, so to speak, "Many vorns, Border Commander. I suppose I should congratulate you on your new position. I always _knew_ you were capable…"

"And I might congratulate you for having the sheer _audacity_ to show your featureless face in my province a second time…" she growled.

"Now, now Powderain—"

"You shall refer to me as Magistrate!" she snipped.

Shockwave sighed in exasperation, "_Fine_. There is no reason for you to be so defensive, Magistrate. You and I are allies now. At _long last_."

Her optic twitched at the nostalgic tone to his voice, but she said nothing, instead allowing him to continue in an increasingly mirthful tone, "Though I don't recall you being this high strung before. It wouldn't be the Seekers would it?" he turned his attention to the horizon line, "I've always wondered, can you see the Spires from here? Where they can _always_ haunt you?"

She huffed, also turning to the empty space beyond the balcony, "Who were your spies?"

"I believe you've asked me that before," he mused, "I really don't see how it's going to make a difference."

"Very well, how about a different question," she folded her hand neatly, "How did you plant them? I would like to prevent further incidences such as this one…"

"Not all of my spies are witting pawns," Shockwave admitted, "Many of your people have fled Dolhearac after Symmetry's leadership took a turn for the worse. Yet some of their family remained. I found the deserters, and became privy to a great deal of…interesting gossip, even from here in the capital sector," he paused, turning his attention to the Magistrate, "And blackmail always works well…"

Powderain only glared, "I was never your spy, Shockwave."

"No," he admitted, "But you were perhaps the most valuable piece in the playing field. I cannot tell you how utterly _delighted_ I was to hear that the Border Commander, the very bot most often in contact with the outside world, was likely to be the next Magistrate. I simply _had_ to come in for an interview."

"And I should never have taken an intruder captive when they so obviously wanted to be caught," Powderain hissed.

"Oh but it really was for the best," Shockwave mused, "After all, it's good for potential Magistrate's to know the secrets of their predecessors. I would have loathed to report my findings about the Spires to Starscream before I had a chance to consult with you. All those Seekers dead and sickly, and such an elaborate cover-up. Why, if any living Seeker found out the truth, they would surely level the entire province in one night."

"That they would," Powderain murmured, her optics drifting up to the sky in a newly developed habit of watching for troubling Seeker antics above.

"And seeing as I would hate to have a project I've put so much time into go to waste simply because Starscream has no hold of his temper, there are some things I would like to discuss with you in regards to how Dolhearac can best help the Decepticon cause."

Powderain shut off her optics and released a steadying sigh, "What do you propose?"

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A meeting was called between the officers of the Dolhearan's and the Decepticons early the following orn. Powderain insisted that it was best to get things over with. Fortunately, today, for the first time in quite awhile, she felt as though she had some good cards in her hands.

The meeting still progressed at a painful pace, though…

"I'm offering you a compliment, Magistrate, I wish you would take it as that," Megatron scowled, "Your military houses some of the best snipers on Cybertron, I'm only asking for a few."

Powderain glowered back at him defiantly, "I agreed to be your ally, Megatron, not necessarily to join your war. We need our soldiers here, there's still much to be done to repair the societal damage caused by the late Magistrate Symmetry."

Sundew cleared her vocalizer, "Not to mention the people are high strung due to the presence of your army. I fear riots will break out if we loosen our current level of control on the situation."

"Then start a PR campaign in our favor," Shockwave huffed sarcastically, "Placing some of your troops under our command will certainly be the sort of trust offering your people can accept?"

"I sincerely doubt it," Sundew muttered.

"You never know until you try," the purple Decepticon snipped, "Starscream, you would be willing to take some Dolhearan's under your wing, so to speak, would you not?"

The Seeker gave the other mech a side-long glance, "I've said nothing of the sort, and I never will. I don't have time to care for their fragile little frames. They would only get in my way."

"But as I'm sure you are aware, it is this same animosity between your Seekers and Dolhearac that's the source of so much of this tension," Shockwave fixed his optic on Powderain, "As I discussed yesterday with the Magistrate."

The blue and pink femme screwed her faceplates into a frown, "Which is exactly why I believe it would be a poor decision."

"Actually I see it as quite the opposite. It would be an excellent _trust_ building experience between your two frame types."

Powderain averted her optics, making to look like she was distracted by a deformity on her hand, "Perhaps a different arrangement can be made."

"You can't be serious," Villanelle groaned, more to herself than anyone else. She was seriously reconsidering her acceptance to be Border Commander.

"And what kind of arrangement would that be?" Megatron ground out.

"If any of your soldiers are willing, I will have some of my best marksman train them. That way you may have your own superior snipers, and I can continue my appropriate duties as Magistrate."

The Decepticon warlord sighed, raising a hand to stall the argument he could tell Shockwave was about to give. These meetings went on far too long as far as he was concerned. And while he wanted to end the war, he knew he couldn't unless he got out of this forsaken Pit of a room.

"We will agree to your terms for now," Megatron consented, "But this discussion will come up again."

"Might I remind you, Megatron, how much Dolhearac has down for your already," Powderain stated firmly, "You have already insisted that most of our industry be transferred to armor and munitions, and we have given you a position close to the front lines of the war while being safe behind our walls."

Megatron merely snorted in amusement, "You make war sound like a child's game, where everything must be made fair or else one of the participants will throw a temper tantrum."

"From what I hear, some bots act that way anyways," Villanelle cast a glance at the Decepticon second-in-command.

Starscream glared back, "You can't win if you don't play the game."

"But you can't lose either."

"Villanelle, please," Sundew hissed harshly, "Let's not start this here…"

"It has come to my attention," Powderain announced easily over the rising tension, "that you are having…issues with our information systems."

Soundwave turned his helm in interest of this new topic but Megatron still looked bored, "Yes…"

For the first time since the silver mech had met her, she actually looked a little smug, "I would like to offer an apology, but I have no control over the situation."

His optics flashed, and several others around the table paused their glaring enough to give her a look, "Are you _not_ the Magistrate?"

"Yes," she rapped her fingers on the table, "but the archives are beyond my control. The Archivist is my equal, not subordinate, and while I have some sway, she has refused my urgings to grant you more access."

Megatron gave her a cynical look, "And why, praytell, does this Archivist get away with not following your leadership?"

"The Archivist, Schema, was commissioned by founding Magistrate Valkyrie to record and protect Dolhearac's legacy. She is forever bound by that order, it runs at the core of her programming."

Starscream huffed, "Why don't you just make _her_ Magistrate then?"

A slight grin came to Powderain's face, "Perhaps if you met her, you would understand?"

The Decepticons at the table shared a glance as the Dolhearan Officers began tittering nervously amongst themselves over the com. links.

_"I've heard of Schema, but I didn't think she was actually…you know…a full-fledged Cybertronian," _Villanelle admitted. Over the link several of the femmes voiced their agreement.

Sundew gave Powderain a side-long glance, _"No one has seen her for many vorns. As I understand, there is a certain etiquette to even receive an audience."_

The Magistrate leaned back in her chair looking somber, _"I would not have offered the invitation if it weren't from Schema herself."_

More excitable back and forth among the other femmes as Sundew shifted uneasily, _"Is that safe?"_

_"As I said, it is at her request," _Powderain sounded unsure herself, _"She has also requested the presence of Sundew and Villanelle."_

_"Me, Magistrate?"_ Villanelle twitched_, "But I'm only the Border Commander? Wouldn't she mean the Military Overseer?"_

_"Schema made her request very clear. She asked for you."_

Powderain closed her section of the com. link and smiled pleasantly at the Decepticons across from them, "Shall we?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Well I guess we won't be meeting the Archivist today, but we shall next time ;) Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4: The Grand Scheme of Things

A/N: If you haven't read "_Where Angels Fall_" you're going to want to do that first :P

Finally we get to meet the Archivist and Thundercracker gets to deal with a disgruntled teenager XD

And because I'm paranoid, Schema is an actual word, not something I made up. Look it up, I think you'll find it fits quite splendidly ;) She's also quickly becoming one of my favorite characters XD

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 4: In the Grand Scheme of Things**

In order to meet with Schema, the uneasy but no less curious assortment of femmes and mechs had to venture deep beneath the city center. Powderain guided them to a large private lift near the back of the capital sector complexes. No access codes, no security, just a series of doors that opened at their approach. Villanelle could only guess, and perhaps hope that Schema was in control of them and that one of the most important bots in Dolhearac just didn't have questionable security surrounding her.

Space on the lift was uncomfortably tight, but the three Decepticons and three Dolhearans managed to fit, albeit with some more glaring. Fortunately, Starscream had opted out of the visit, not terribly keen on going underground to a potentially tight space just to see another glider he didn't care about. Powderain was glad for it, and Megatron might have been feeling the same if only to avoid any more pathetic bickering.

The lift finally stopped and allowed for them to enter an octagonal room, just the size of the Magistrate's office. Villanelle had to take a pause to look around. The white walls, originally appearing stark and smooth, were glistening with streams of data from all over the province. Finally her optics landed on the far wall across from them, where the white wall curved inward into a quaint alcove just big enough for the petit, equally white femme to sit.

"We are so glad you could visit us," Schema greeted as they filtered into the room, "We don't often have visitors."

"I appreciate you taking the time," Powderain smiled kindly, coming to stand in the room's center.

Villanelle moved to stand next to her, taking in Schema's appearance. She was certainly built like a Dolhearan, but she lacked the wings. Then again, if her job consisted of her sitting her all day, she likely didn't need them. She had limited armor, also unnecessary Villanelle supposed, and glowing disks by her cheeks that were attached to the circuitry in the wall behind her, with more wires lifting from the back of her helm.

It unnerved her a little to think that all the data in their province was filtered by the fragile femme before them, especially since she had the quirky, knowing smile on her face. But she supposed that Schema had been at this long enough, she was in no position to question.

Schema lifted her helm minutely to look down her nose at Megatron, the smile never leaving her features, "And we are quite honored to have the esteemed Megatron in our presence. You are a great warrior."

The Decepticon warlord narrowed his optics, "And you are very shrewd it would seem."

"We know," her grin widened.

"Schema," Powderain interrupted before Megatron could decide to murder the lot of them down here where there was no help to be found, "I believe you had something you wanted to discuss with our allies in person?"

"But of course," the pale femme sat back in her 'throne', "We are sorry we have been causing so much trouble lately. You wish more access to our database, correct?"

Megatron turned to Soundwave, who gave a small nod, "Schema's meddling: unhelpful."

"You understand we cannot grant you full access we hope. It would be no good for you as it would be no good for us."

"How wouldn't it be good for us?" Shockwave asked slowly.

"You would be helpless to find anything," Schema answered simply, "There are eons of data in our archives, and the data is always in motion."

"Maybe it wouldn't be if you weren't constantly moving it," Megatron noted with a scowl.

"But what fun would that be?" she smirked cheekily, "However, we can…cut you a deal, as it were."

"And?" Megatron frowned impatiently.

"Tell us what you seek, and we will grant you the…appropriate information. We are not so bad once you get to know us. But you have to ask nicely first."

Megatron rolled his optics, "Soundwave, tell her whatever you want, but I'm not taking any more part in this nonsense."

He headed for the lift and Schema raised a hand to wave, "Keep in touch."

Soundwave and Shockwave shared a look before the blue mech stepped forward to offer his requests. As expected it was mostly about their technology and defenses. Schema promised to have a special file made up for him by the time he returned to the surface and the two Decepticons also returned to the lift.

"Well that was a productive meeting, wouldn't you agree?" Schema smiled brightly at the other Dolhearans.

"You aren't going to give them everything they asked for, are you?" Villanelle asked skeptically.

"Of course we're not. Only enough to whet their appetite, they need nothing more," Schema chided.

"And what did you need myself and Villanelle for?" Sundew asked uneasily, having been pensive ever since entering the lift.

For perhaps the first time since meeting her, the Archivist's expression turned almost serious, "We summoned you only to tell you there is nothing to be afraid of anymore. You don't have to hide."

Sundew straightened, taken aback by statement as Powderain and Villanelle shared a curious look.

"I-I see," the Civilian Overseer nodded, "I will certainly…keep that in mind."

"Follow our advice, Sundew. It will do well for Dolhearac if you do," she sighed and turned to Villanelle with a renewed sense of delight, "As for you, you were summoned purely for curiosity, and we must admit, you have impressed us!"

"I…um thank you, Schema," Villanelle pursed her lips.

"We will be in touch?"

"If that's what you want, I suppose."

"Excellent," Schema chirped, clasping her hands together, "Now if you two will excuse us, we must speak privately with Magistrate Powderain."

"Of course," Sundew bowed politely, motioning for a still suspicious Villanelle to follow her out.

Once they were safely on the lift, Schema's smile again disappeared, this time in favor of a more thoughtful look, "Villanelle will suit our purpose well."

Powderain crossed her arms uneasily, "Are you certain?"

"Her ties are few, her walls are high. Her love of Dolhearac is above all else, and she never ceases to question what might bring it harm."

"I see," Powderain sighed heavily, "Is there anything else?"

"We would like to know what you plan on doing with the Decepticons?" Schema answered plainly.

"I haven't quite decided yet…"

"We insist you come to a decision soon."

"Is it really that bad?"

Schema shut off her optics, "There is infinite potential for it to be. The line has not been drawn yet when we will step in to interfere should you fail to handle the situation, but the time is fast approaching when you must make a decision." She fixed a stern look on the pastel femme before her, "It is our position to protect Dolhearac's legacy, and you have put that legacy in jeopardy."

"And what would you have had me do?" Powderain struggled to keep herself from shouting.

"We do not waste time on 'what-if'. We are well aware of your motives, and perhaps there was no right answer. However, that does not excuse the fact that Dolhearac is in grave danger _now_. We needn't remind you that if we are forced to step in, your right to the title of Magistrate is instantaneously discarded."

"By this point, I can't say that would bother me," Powderain admitted, flexing her wings.

"We know," Schema replied softly, "You are dismissed, Magistrate."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Youngling. It's time for you to get up," a voice instructed from the balcony. Kitetails tried to curl in on herself, hoping against hope that Thundercracker couldn't see her and would assume she left.

"Youngling…" the mech repeated sternly.

"I'm not a youngling!" she shouted back over her shoulder.

"Then prove it!" he snapped back.

Her wings twitched restlessly, but eventually she hopped off the berth and headed outside, arms crossed tightly over her cockpit. Thundercracker was clearly not impressed by the look she tried to give him.

"Be as moody as you want, it won't help you any. I've dealt with far worse, believe me."

Kitetails flinched, but held her ground. With a sigh, Thundercracker turned towards the sky, "It's a good evening for flight practice—"

"But I already know how to fly!" she insisted.

"Your form is lacking. Once we have improved upon that, you'll find you can fly with much greater ease than ever before."

She shrunk back, "W-what's wrong with it?"

"Hover off the balcony's edge, and I'll show you."

Kitetails was reluctant as ever to obey, but there was a nagging curiosity that eventually compelled her to kick on her thrusters and obey. She hovered in front of the larger Seeker awkwardly as he examined her form, eventually shaking his helm.

"Straighten your legs, your thrusters need to be under your center of balance…no don't lock your knees, you still need to be readily mobile…much better," he looked her over again, "Stop hunching your shoulders. No matter what any bot; Seeker, grounder or glider, is saying to you, you must maintain your posture. That's….a _little_ better. Now don't keep your arms so close to your frame, you need those to maintain your balance in your bipedal mode. They need to be angled to your wings."

"Like this?" Kitetails asked shakily, looking over herself to try and make a mental note so that this lesson wouldn't be repeated. Besides, if this helped her fly better, it couldn't be all bad, even if he was trying '_Seekerfy_' her.

Thundercracker appraised her once more before nodding in satisfaction, "Much better," his own thruster's sparked to life and he rose up next to her, "Now let's see your posture when you're actually flying."

The rest of the evening involved the rather exhaustive process of clearing up every issue she had with her flying capabilities. It felt like she could do nothing right. Her wings were always at the wrong angle to make every kind of turn, and she kept bending her knees at the wrong time. She was increasingly distracted by the goings on of bots far below, and eventually Thundercracker had come to physically swooping down, grabbing her helm, and forcing her to look straight ahead until she learned to only pay attention to the sky in front of her. He explained that learning to fly and observe the world around her _safely_, would have to be their next lesson, but by this point, he had run out of patience for any more flying exercise.

Kitetails almost wondered if something other than her was bothering him as he had suddenly become much more irritated (than usual) doing the last portion of her training. He led her back to the Seeker's hub, marching straight towards their improvised med-bay (since Seekers apparently only allowed themselves to be worked on by other Seekers unless it was life or death).

"While we're here, you might as well be checked out," Thundercracker explained absently before he spotted the object of their visit.

It was Starscream's other trinemate, the purple one. He waved at them cheerily, and Kitetails approached with the upmost caution behind her new mentor.

"How do you break a warp drive!" Thundercracker hissed just barely loud enough for her to hear as he flicked the other Seeker on the side of the helm.

"They've got some kind of warp-scrambling device underground," the other mech shrugged nonchalantly, "I just wanted to meet this fancy Archivist of theirs, but whatever. My warp drive will be fixed soon."

Kitetails found her optics drawn to the device beside him. He could warp? That sounded…unnerving. Bots should walk, drive or fly wherever they needed to go. Anything else just seemed…unnatural…

The purple Seeker smirked when he noticed what she was staring at, "Well go ahead, it's already broken so you can touch it!"

Kitetails flicked her wings curiously. She always loved it when bots let her investigate things. Plasmadrop had always been willing to let her try out her inventions on the shooting range. Well…before…she wouldn't think about that now. She silently looked to Thundercracker for some form of approval first, but he only sighed. She figured that was close enough.

Kitetails wandered around to the other side of the examination table and carefully picked the device up. She looked at the walls and the chamber of the core and frowned, "How does it work?"

"There's supposed to be a glowy thing inside, but it fizzled out when I entered the scrambler's field. I just barely managed to reverse course before I got stuck who knows where!"

"Huh…" she carefully placed the device back on the tray.

"Name's Skywarp, we were never really introduced," he went on.

She flickered her optics at him, "Nice to…meet you again?"

"I like this version of Seeker kids better," Skywarp quipped to his wingmate, "Not nearly as snarky as every other fragger I've met."

"If the gliders have nothing else going for them, it's that they are very strict with learning manners," Thundercracker commented back, "But it also weakens resolves as opposed to permitting one to stand up for themselves."

"I can hear you," Kitetails muttered.

"Speak clearly, youngling. If you have something to say, don't be afraid to say it. Or would you rather prove me right?" Thundercracker snapped.

She straightened, looking between the two older Seekers worriedly, "But I don't want to get in trouble."

"But that's the beauty of it, you _won't_ get in trouble!" Skywarp explained, throwing his arms our in a broad gesture, "I'd be slagged if it were any other way!"

"So long as you still behave as expected, you can say whatever you want," the blue Seeker went on.

Kitetails pursed her lips, but decided to regretfully give it a try, "Powderain calls that all bark and no bite…"

To her surprise, her new mentor let a hint of smirk pass his features, "Fortunately, we have the firepower and skill to back up anything we say if it comes to that. When you are a Seeker, you can afford to say whatever you want," he shrugged, "But you are learning well. Now, about your check-up."


	5. Chapter 5: Three Ringed Circus

A/N: As always, read Where Angels Fall first if you haven't read that yet. Especially for this chapter or you'll be very lost :P

This chapter...is mostly a lot of talking. It's a character development chapter, and so it doesn't have too much to do with the plot other than the plot can't progress without it being taken care of. And then somehow the conversations wound up being incredibly long. Hope they don't bore you :P

By the way, I post a lot of auxillary one-shots to my stories on deviantart, and occasionally try (failingly) to draw my characters. If you want to look them over sometime, my username is Esper-Isotopes :) There's a Dolhearan Legacy section in my gallery. It also includes a more complete explanation of Sundew's back-story (DON'T READ IT UNTIL AFTER YOU READ THIS CHAPTER THOUGH), so you may want to look at that if the character interests you at all.

And as if this author's note wasn't long enough (sorry XP), I've come to realize how OC-intensive this installment in the series is. I'm sorry if this puts anyone off, DL Part 3 will have _much_ more of the canon characters, believe me ;)

And now, lest we forgot she exists, lets go say hi to Plasmadrop!

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 5: Three-Ringed Circus**

Sundew had gone straight from the meeting with Schema to the brig. Her spark was pulsing in a frantic rhythm of panic she hadn't experienced in a long time. Not when the Magistrate died, not when Megatron had appeared at Powderain's inauguration, really not sense her first orns in the capital.

It had never occurred to her that their Archivist would know the secret she thought only one other bot knew. And furthermore that Schema evidently hadn't told anyone anyways. She was so used to living a lie that she never imagined that a time would come when she wouldn't have to lie anymore. It was almost too much for her to bear.

And so it was with great urgency that she all but jammed the buttons opening a lone cell in the back that was reserved for grounders. The cell of one Plasmadrop, their former weapon's expert and inventor.

The violet and white femme jolted at the sudden intrusion, still cuffed firmly to the wall. Personally Sundew thought it a bit overkill. Just looking at the femme any bot could tell she was a state of defeat, the likes of which she would never be able to rouse herself from. Plasma flickered her white optics up at her visitor almost as though she couldn't get them to focus right, or perhaps she just didn't believe what her vision sensors were telling her.

Sundew, also, was at a sort of loss. She had been in such a mad rush to get here that she had uncharacteristically not planned anything to say.

"How are you feeling?" she asked awkwardly, though the answer should be obvious.

Still, the sound of a familiar and not angry voice brought a light back to the inventor's optics that Sundew found she sorely missed, "Sundew? That really you? Sorry…I think I got my head banged pretty bad, not all the wiring in there's workin' right…"

Sundew offered a sympathetic smile, though she wasn't sure her oldest friend could see it, "It's not a problem."

The two had known each other long before either of them came to the capital. Even before Plasmadrop's mess of the Seeker Spires. Yes Sundew knew. She wasn't supposed to, but they had shared equal part in one of the biggest secrets to ever come to the capital sector and managed to keep it hidden, so what were a few more?

Admittedly, Sundew had been doubting her ability to keep such a secret without Plasmadrop's help. She was trying, she was too afraid not to, but it was starting to wear her down. It wouldn't surprise her if somehow Schema knew that too.

"Heard the news," Plasmadrop began idly swinging her legs over the side of her bench, "'Bout the Decepticons I mean. Did you know anything about that?"

Sundew shook her helm, "Unfortunately not."

A string of softly muttered curses passed her lips followed by a bitter, "Why do I feel like this is my fault?"

"Because you're in a state of self-degradation," Sundew provided, "I've read the reports on your condition as we've been too overwhelmed for me to visit personally," now that she thought about it, she shouldn't be here now either, but she kept that to herself, "You're in a state I've never seen you before. Where did you zeal for life go?"

She didn't mean to sound accusing, but it somehow ended up coming out that way. It worried her to see Plasmadrop like this. And selfishly a part of her was wanting her friend to fix her problems as she had always been so willing to in the past. This wasn't the inventor she was used to seeing. Plasmadrop was supposed to be the optimist, the one with the plan, the one who never gave up.

"I killed it," Plasmadrop's attempt at a growl sounded more like a cough in her strained state. Sundew halted her train of thought and replayed the words in her processor, finally managing to take herself and her own fears out of the equation enough to reclaim the level of sympathy she was known for.

"What do you mean?" she hesitantly settled herself next to the bound femme with a worried frown.

"Stop acting like you don't know what I've done. I'm here because I'm a coward, okay," Plasmadrop snipped then quickly lost the fight in her with a sigh of lament, "I'm sorry Sundew, but I've finally come to realize I'm just not good enough. I don't deserve to even be alive, but for some crazy reason my crime's aren't punishable by death…"

Sundew's shoulder's dropped in her own sigh, "You were manipulated—"

"Because I was weak."

"I was going to say because Wisp is very determined."

Plasmadrop snorted, "Didn't help that she always hated me…"

Sundew paused, "I always found it hard to tell who she did and didn't like."

"I never was able to live up to her expectations," the inventor mused solemnly, "And I always felt like she blamed me for things I couldn't control anymore.

"'Course she never hated me the same way she hated Ariel. Even though nothing I did was ever enough to make up for my mistakes in her processor, she still let me try. She supported my work, recognized my talent for what it was. At first I thought she was using me because she wanted me to fall alongside her, but I've come to realize she used me, and anyone else she could sink he claws into, only because she felt that Arial had committed something more unforgiveable than the rest of us combined…"

"And I've come to the understanding that there was perhaps some validity to that hate," Sundew admitted softly, but still shook her helm, "It does not and will not excuse her actions however…"

They fell into silence before Plasmadrop's vents sputtered a bit and she sat up a little more, "Well I don't suppose you're here to gossip and speculate about old buddies of ours. Everything going ok?"

Sundew steeled herself, "Schema knows."

"The Archivist? It knows what?" Plasmadrop tilted her helm as much as she was able. Sundew gave a look that said it all, "Ooooh, _that_. Has it always known?"

"_She_," Sundew corrected gently, "Probably knew from the beginning. I've come to the conclusion that she acts on her own agenda. Our secret did not put Dolhearac in danger, therefore she never brought it to anyone's attention."

Plasmadrop almost made a joking comment, but Sundew saw it coming and fixed her with an unamused glare. The inventor chuckled tiredly, "So?"

"Schema said it's time I put this behind me…more or less…"

A thoughtful hum, "She's right. Now's as good a time as any. You know, unless you can find someone else to back you up."

"I sincerely doubt I have time to invest in such a relationship."

"Then..." Plasmadrop prodded.

"I thought I would consult you first."

The inventor took no time to answer, "Given what I'm sure is a very tumultuous political climate up there, I don't think you have anything to lose."

"Except for the Magistrate's confidence. How can I expect her to trust me?"

"You're too nice to be untrustworthy," Plamsadrop commented dryly, "And as unconvincing as that sounds, it's true. You don't have long now before it all starts to fall apart anyways. It's getting to be that time again, your vocalizer has been having hiccups since before this whole fiasco started. Those code overlays will be overridden before too much longer. It's better to be straight up about it than try and hide until it all crumbles to pieces."

Sundew smiled thankfully at the femme next to her, even if worry still haunted her optics, "You've always been far more logical than me. Why didn't you get my job?"

"Compassion is something the capital sector has always been lacking, it seems to me. That's reason enough…"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Today Kitetails was going in for a progress inspection. She wasn't _quite_ sure what that meant, she had only barely begun her training the orn before, but she was quite aware that it would be Starscream conducting it and that was a good reason for her to be stubborn.

"Why?! I've hardly learned anything!" she whined as Thundercracker hovered above her, ultimately unamused by her refusal to join him in the air. She had been training with him almost nonstop since her check-up the previous orn and she was tired.

"Starscream has high expectations of you. When he says he's going to keep a close optic on a project he typically winds up handling it himself. Be grateful you haven't been subjected to the same fate, yet."

That was substantial enough to get her to be quiet and she reluctantly kicked on her thrusters. Thundercracker looked her over, "Wing's higher."

She scowled but did as she was told. With one final appraising look, he nodded and took off. Kitetails was pleased when she did a decent job of keeping up.

They landed atop the building they were using as refuge and she found that Starscream wasn't alone. Skywarp was there, naturally, but there were also other Seekers she didn't recognize. Not that she cared to learn who they were, but she found it curious that a few of them were her size or smaller.

"Halt," Starscream ordered, holding up a hand. As usual, just the way he said it had her helm buzzing to obey and she hovered in the air. Thundercracker landed, and Starscream took his place in the air, circling her slowly.

"Posture is much better. How many times did you have to drill it in?" the air commander mused.

"Only enough," Thundercracker answered calmly.

"And her maintenance report?"

"The Dolhearans have no idea how to properly care for a Seeker. It's a stroke of luck she hasn't overheated with how clogged her vents were," at this point Thundercracker frowned, "Her frame is also incomplete. The medics reason that the Dolherearan's have been fabricating parts based on deactivated frames they took from the Southern Spires. As such, some non-vital monitors and other parts are missing entirely. I'm a little surprised she flies as well as she does."

Kitetails wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but she pouted either way. Starscream returned to the ground without another word, and not being told otherwise, she landed a ways away, keeping a wary optic on the other young Seekers across from her.

"So is she broken?" one of the aforementioned bunch piped up, his features twisted between disgust and intrigue.

"The medics are in the process of getting an inventory of all the parts she needs installed or replaced," Thundercracker didn't really answer the question, but he gave the other fledgling a glare to keep him quiet.

"I wouldn't bother," Starscream sighed, "She's close enough to her final frame modifications, and there is another slew of equipment that must be installed at that time. Best to shock her systems all at once instead of twice."

"What more do I need?" Kitetails finally demanded, though the authority in her tone fell far short of what she hoped. It always did, she didn't know she even tried. Was it really her fault she was intimidated around this lot? She was yet to see a good reason why she shouldn't be.

But just for good measure, "And Powderain said I won't be ready for my final frame for a few more vorns."

Starscream smirked, "Considering the mess the Dolhearans have made of you, I doubt it will matter much. Besides, Seekers receive their final frame based on their maturity as measured by their teachers, and not on their age."

"As for parts, you'd be surprised how much it takes to keep us in the sky," Skywarp beamed, "Not to mention you lack any sort of equipment that would keep you alive in battle."

"Battle?" Kitetails repeated uneasily.

"We're in a war, youngling. You didn't think we would want you to be unarmed, did you?" Thundercracker cracked a grin of his own.

"In fact, that's why you're here," Skywarp went on, "So you can see what…_proper_ Seeker younglings and fledglings are able to do."

Thundercracker gave his wingmate a glare as Kitetail's shuffled her peds. Starscream ignored the lot of them.

"Typically we keep the trainees in Kaon," the air commander explained, eyeing the young group with the same critical optics he had used to appraise Kitetails, "But I've been meaning to look into their progress. Given that Dolhearac is a safe haven, you will likely be training with them in near the future."

"Do we have to?" a Seeker smaller than herself huffed.

"How do we even know she's a real Seeker? You said yourself she's missing some parts."

"And I heard she's got some screws loose."

Kitetails continued to shrink back under their criticism. She didn't have much experience with bots her own age. The capital sector was considered by most of the populace to be a poor place to raise families, and Powderain had never let her wander the streets when she visited the border. So her first encounter with young Seekers had been something she had often played out in her processors. Naturally, this wasn't what she had hoped for, and she felt like flying away.

Instead, she relaxed marginally when Starscream ordered their silence and their flight instructors started giving orders so that the young fliers could display their best skills for their commander. Not wanting to draw more attention to herself, Kitetails stayed where she was, no matter how tempting it was to try and escape.

"Are you paying attention?" Thundercracker's voice behind her cause her to jump.

"Ummm," she looked up at him with uncertainty, "Sort of."

He gave her a look and nodded back up at the sky, "Look at their maneuvers and tell me if you think you could do that."

She turned to the sky and studied the other young Seeker's antics. She had to admit, some of the more advanced maneuvers were things she didn't even realize she was possible, and she voiced as much. Her mentor nodded his agreement.

"_That_ is why you need more instrumentation. You rely too heavily on your optics for flight. If that were somehow damaged or obscured, you'd be flying blind."

Kitetails twitched her wings as she thought about that, "You can fly without seeing?"

Skywarp, of course, had to butt in before his wingmate could answer, "I can fly with my optics closed and mouth hanging _wide_ open!"

"That sounds lovely," Thundercracker sighed his trademarked sigh of long-suffering.

Kitetails looked clueless, and opened and closed her jaw experimentally, "Is it hard to fly with your mouth open?"

"Never do that," her mentor warned quickly, "And no. It requires no skill or talent or…intelligence whatsoever."

"Hey! What's a glider doing up here?!" one of the younglings paused in their run to shout down at them. His instructor was quick to scold him as Starscream, his trine, and Kitetails turned to the roof access to see there was, indeed, a Dolhearan femme watching the antics above with an expected expression of bitterness.

"Villanelle!" Kitetails called happily with a wave.

The sniper met her gaze and seemed to sigh a prayer of patience as she approached.

Kitetails had been beyond excited to learn she would be having a liaison representing the Magistrate to check on her progress, and even happier still when Starscream had agreed to the arrangement. Granted, he really only wanted to make sure Powderain was constantly reminded of the fledgling so he could continue to rub it in her face, but Thundercracker at least tolerated it because he knew it was in her own best interest. It also helped that she was familiar with Villanelle. Albeit they weren't the best of friends, but they had both been mentored and taught by Powderain, and at the very least the dull-colored femme had been more tolerant and patient than some femmes had.

"Kitetails," the Dolhearan greeted once she was close enough to speak and mostly be heard over the flying jets above, "I hope you've been well?"

Kitetails instantly launched into an explanation of what had happened since they last saw each other. Villanelle took it in slowly, occasionally giving Thundercracker a curious look, which often resulted in her getting glared at. She asked questions when appropriate, particularly when she found out Kitetails was missing valuable equipment. The fledglings blue mentor stepped in at that point, making a point of letting the Dolhearan know her fellow gliders had made several mistakes. Villanelle took it in stride.

"I apologize for your disappointment, but we doubted we could count on just asking you for the needed information," she explained with a hint of bitterness once he was finished.

"You should have returned her to her fellow Seekers then than doing that kind of a hack-job," Starscream stepped in. Above them the young Seekers had stopped their display, their commander wasn't watching anyways, and were tittering amongst themselves and looking at Kitetails in such a way that she wondered if she should be ashamed of her excitement to see an old friend.

"Well unfortunately, the femme who made that call is no longer with us, so I can't tell you why we didn't," Villanelle was quick to retort, but then quickly back-tracked, and turned to Kitetails, "Not to say it was a bad decision or necessarily a good decision, it just wasn't the most logical."

Fortunately, the fledgling was used to her blunt manner and she waved it off. Villanelle allowed a slight smile at the gesture.

"So all is well? I can give the Magistrate a positive report?"

Kitetails carefully considered her answer, "I am well…" she cast a glance at the Seeker trine behind her, "But it still isn't home."

"Understood," Villanelle nodded, "I would stay longer, but it appears you're busy. I apologize for the interruption."

Starscream muttered something, indicating she clearly wasn't forgiven, but the sniper ignored it. Kitetails watched her go sadly, turning back to watch the other young Seekers fly just as Thundercracker barked something about them not stopping even when there was a distraction down below. She didn't miss the looks she got any time she caught one of their optics. It was more of the same that she was used to from her fellow Seekers, but seeing them on younger faceplates was a different kind of stinging sensation at her spark.

She hoped she wouldn't be training with them any time soon.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Magistrate!" Powderain unsubspaced her rifle at the alarm and excitement in the medic's voice as she rounded the corner. She had been hoping to deliver her reports in peace, but no matter where she went, it seemed there was something that needed taking care of.

She was beginning to understand why Symmetry had such strict behavior standards. They probably helped, but Powderain was trying to make her subordinates as unstressed as possible given the situation.

"Yes?" she asked, trying to be patient. The medic didn't look too sure if she should be worried or some other emotion that neither one of them could identify. But what was clear was the urgency.

"You need to come to the med-bay, right now. Overseer Sundew wants to…explain something to you," the medic struggled with the appropriate phrasing.

"Is she alright?" Powderain was already following the other femme down the hall as the medic seemed too wound up to walk at a normal pace.

"I-er-well…you're going to have to see this for yourself."

They arrived at the med-bay shortly to find most of the medics in the main room chattering wildly, only to fall completely silent at the Magistrate's arrival. Her guide directed her to the back room where intensive care patients were kept, and Powderain almost feared the worst. If the medics weren't so shaken, she probably would have.

She stepped into the other room, and was met with the usual greeting of her station, "Magistrate."

Two voices, one the CMO, the other oddly familiar, but a good octave lower than it should be.

She turned to the two bots and froze mid-step.

The bot sitting on the examination table had the faceplates and colors of her Civilian Overseer. However, Sundew's regular armor was missing leaving a bare protoform that, while slender as all Dolhearans were wont to be, was not exactly shaped like that of a female. Sundew hung her…_his_ helm guiltily as the medic looked over the reinforced armor on the table beside him that had alluded to a feminine figure and kept them all fooled for so long. Powderain staggered back into the wall in shock.

"Got here just in time," the medic explained distantly, not in such as visible state of surprise, but likely feeling it just the same, "I finally wiped the code-overlay on his vocalizer. That is assuming you didn't get that replaced."

"No, it's the same as it's always been," Sundew shifted uneasily.

Powderain could only gawk for a good few klicks as the reality of the situation sunk in.

All this time, right under her nose, the late Magistrate Symmety, the greatest anti-mech femme to perhaps ever walk among them, had a mech as one of her seconds-in-command. Powderain wished she had been around when Sundew first came to the capital, wondering if there had been any sign. Not that she was angry, but she was more than a little confused, and maybe scandalized.

"H-how—" she finally sputtered.

Again, Sundew's answer was short and to the point, "Plasmadrop."

The medic frowned as she looked over the inventor's handiwork, "Well that certainly explains why you would only go to her for medical treatment. Femme's a mad genius, I'll give her that. Never seen a disguise this complex ever in my life."

"You've seen _others_?" Powderain gave her an incredulous look. The medic thought about it a moment.

"No. Guess I haven't. No mech's been stupid enough to try it."

Sundew hunched his shoulders even more, "I'm sorry…"

Powderain pursed her lips, forcing herself to approach the mech and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I'm not mad at you, Sundew just…flabbergasted to put it the most eloquently," she gave him a thoughtful look, "You were very brave to even attempt this."

"It's been my one desire for as long as I can remember. To help Dolhearac prosper. I just happened to come across the only femme who figured she could make it happen. Who'd have thought she would be right."

Powderain smiled at him kindly, "Plasmadrop was a good friend of yours, I understand. I'm beginning to see why."

Her smile was returned, "I wouldn't have survived without her. Now that she's essentially out of the picture, and given Schema's advice, I thought it would be a good idea to…admit my deception. I-I realize now may not be the best time—"

Powderain silenced him with a strained chuckle, "Oh no, now's as good a time as any. Really, I wouldn't keep a time-table for surprises like this. We've had plenty of surprises lately, a few more and it won't even bother us anymore," a slight smirk crossed her features, "Besides, the femmes need something more interesting to gossip about than Decepticons."

Sundew chuckled as well, "Sounds…fun…But may I request an orn of leave until I can get some new…" he gestured at his femme disguise, "armor?"

"Granted," Powderain nodded, "And…thank you for telling me this."

"Maybe in some way, my presence can help Dolhearac recover…That is, if I'm still Overseer."

"You were not given your position based on what you appeared, but on your merit. Of course you are still the Civilian Overseer."

They talked a little longer, mostly so that Powderain could assure her subordinate that all was well and forgiven before the Magistrate had to return to her duties. As she left the med-bay, she couldn't help but smile at the medics, now all jittery with excitement at such a development. It was good to hear them being distracted by something more positive, and she was sure that by the end of the orn most-to-all the capital sector would be aware of the face that the Civilian Overseer had been a mech all along.

No matter what came of it, they needed the distraction. But a part of her had to wonder, how many more surprises they would be able to take. It bothered her not knowing what was to come. But somehow, this whole ordeal with Sundew gave her hope that not all the surprises that resided in their future were meant to do them harm.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Oh Sundew, you cute little cross-dresser you. Hopefully this chapter didn't bore anyone. We'll get more fully back into the plot next time. And sorry for any spelling/grammar errors you saw. I didn't edit this one as carefully as sometimes.

In the meantime, however, please review! And have a beautiful week! :D


	6. Chapter 6: Build Up, Break Down

A/N: Read "Where Angels Fall" first if you haven't already, etc.

Shortest. Chapter. Ever.

And it only took so incredibly long because I was trying to figure out how to introduce one more new character. But they didn't exactly fit here, so I'll save them for later. They won't be important until much later in the series anyways XP But yeah, that's why this less that 1000 word chapter took so long to show up. I'm sorry XP Next one will be a lot longer (and not take so long to appear).

Happy post-Halloween :D

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 6: Build Up, Break Down**

"You're never going to hit anything if you insist on not looking at where youre aiming."

Once her flight training had reached a "barely satisfactory" level given "circumstances", Starscream had been quick to put her into training for other inadequacies. Kitetails had been taught how to walk, talk and even drink her energon. It was harder than she thought, but somehow she was managing. Perhaps in part to the fact that her mentor chose not to take these lessons quite as seriously. She was almost beginning to like Thundercracker, but not entirely.

Kitetails was back to being agitated by him the moment he told her they would be practicing weaponry this time around.

"But I don't _want_ to shoot anything!" she insisted.

"These are targets, not actual bots," the blue Seeker reminded her in exasperation, "There's no reason to feel any remorse."

"But they _represent_ bots! I don't want to be a soldier, Thundercracker, I don't even want a part of this war!"

"And how do you expect to defend yourself, then? What happens if someone, anyone comes at you with intent to kill? Will you just…let it happen?"

"I'll fly away!"

"A whole lot of good that will do you if _they_ have a gun!"

"I've tried shooting bots before. I can't do it!"

That earned a pause from her mentor. Thundercracker ceased his argument at once and glanced down at the pistol she had tossed vehemently to the floor. It wasn't standard for Seekers, but it had been what Kitetails had gone to automatically when asked to choose a weapon. He had assumed that was what she was trained to use, after all most younglings, regardless of their home province, were taught some basic weaponry. Given Dolhearac's proud heritage as snipers, he'd honestly expected her to choose a rifle, but he supposed pistols were more practical and relatively universal for bots of all backgrounds.

But had he expected her to have used one in battle? Of course not. The Glider's were neutrals for spark's sake!

"Have you been attacked?" he asked slowly.

Her optics widened at the thought that maybe she had said too much, "Uh well…no. We just had a tiff with the Autobots awhile back…I got scared…B-but I didn't hit anybody!"

"Considering you impulsively look away when pulling the trigger, I'm not surprised," Thundercracker quirked an optic ridge, "Are you familiar with any other types of weapons?"

"Not of the gun variety."

"Meaning…"

"I used to help Plasma—I mean our inventor test out some of her new…stuff," she admitted solemnly, "It feels like a long time ago now…"

"Then perhaps you can specialize in something else," Thundercracker mused, "Though keep in mind that guns and missiles would be the most useful to you in the air."

"Missiles?" the blue Seeker allowed a small smirk at her sudden curiosity.

"Explosives, as I'm sure you are aware. Less pinpoint accuracy, but not as much need for it. So long as you're shooting in a general direction, maybe we can work around your refusal to aim properly."

Kitetails fidgeted at the thought, "Will that get Starscream to leave me alone?"

"Until your next task anyway."

She gave a slow, but definitive nod, "I guess it's worth a try…"

Thundercracker collected some missile launchers, most too big for a fledgling Seekeress to handle easily. She still turned her helm away every time she fired, but as he had implied, the explosions did damage to the targets whether or not she hit them directly. She still didn't like it either, so Thundercracker paid no mind when she refused to look at the damage.

As she got more comfortable, the blue Seeker stepped closer, providing more specific guidance until she could hit the target three out of four times even with her self-imposed impairments. He even appeared the slightest bit proud that she had come this far. That alone made things a little easier.

Maybe she could come to get along with her new mentor after all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Powderain is beginning to lose her novelty," Megatron mused as he nursed his energon.

Both Shockwave and Soundwave glanced up from their collected research that Schema had been so generous enough to grant them, the former of which offering a small sigh of agreement, "Swiftly."

His lord set the energon cube down as he gazed ponderously forward, "She seems to think she is entitled to a level of respect, when all she has shown me she can do is be cowardice," he snorted in disgust, "Tell me, has she shown any sign of gathering her forces for the war?"

Shockwave's posture shifted, giving off the impression that he might be glaring if he had the facial components for such an expression, "Unfortunately not. She refuses to listen to reason. I fear we may need to take more extreme tactics to persuade her…"

"I find it unlikely she will budge," Megatron mused with a growl, "Meaningless threats are not going to get us any farther," rising from his seat, the Decepticon warlord strode purposefully to the window overlooking the capital, "Either the Dolhearans may die here or die out there. The decision is ultimately hers."

"Shall I inform the Magistrate of your intentions then?"

"Not yet."

"When, then?"

Megatron smirked as he watched a squadron of Seekers pass overhead, "When they finally snap."


	7. Chapter 7: Let it Burn

A/N: Read "Where Angels Fall" first if you haven't already, etc.

See, that didn't take that long at all :D Though it might be the last update 'til December. I gave in an decided to take part in Nanowrimo XD It's going ok so far, but I'm a little behind. Oh well, that's what weekends are for ;)

By the by, the title of this chapter is inspired by a song by Red with the same title. I really recommend it, it's a beautiful song, and I think it really just fits everything Powderain and those closest to her have been going through. I was actually going to make some artwork inspired by it, but I've since lost my motivation XP

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 7: Let it Burn**

It had her concerned. Deeply concerned.

Villanelle watched the young Seekeress twirl and practice her acrobatics with other fledglings of her make, and appear to fully enjoy every moment of it. Only twelve orns ago, she had still been dejected and scoffed at by her peers, and now suddenly she was one of them. The sniper wasn't sure what to make of it.

Yet Kitetails still smiled brightly when their optics met, and she excused herself from the impromptu practice to greet the Dolhearan, "Villanelle! It's been a few orns, how are you?"

She put on her polite smile, the only real sort of grin she knew and gave a nod, "That is has. I am well…all things considered. But I thought I was here to check on you?"

Kitetails giggled, and Villanelle noted how much the fledgling had changed even in that time. She stood a little taller, she was a little lighter on her otherwise heavy feet. The angle of her wings mirrored that of every other Seeker Villanelle happened to have seen. She was adjusting, and she looked…happy about it. Once again, the Dolhearan femme wasn't quite sure what to think. She couldn't decide if these changes were good or bad, or if maybe they were something of both.

"I'm doing really good, since you asked. Hey, would you like to meet my new friends?"

Before she could even answer, the younger femme had already spun around and called up to the small swarm of young Seekers, prompting two of them to part from the group and land at her sides. Villanelle rose an optic ridge as the smaller of the two came right up to her, optics wide and imploring, though still highly suspicious. The other mech hung back with the usual _'I don't especially like you' _sort of look that most Seekers gave her.

"This is Stormcell and Disparage," Kitetails introduced brightly. Stormcell, still a youngling and dressed up in a broad assortment of grey paints stepped back as Villanelle returned his distrustful gaze before hurrying to skitter next to his taller counterparts.

"Yeah, we're going to be a trine," he announced confidently, standing between the two fledglings as though also expecting to be the leader of said trine.

"No we're not," Disparage argued, his brown and turquoise accented wings flared at the mere mentioning of the term.

Stormcell pouted, "You _always_ say that!"

"And I'm always going to say it," was the snapped response.

"Are you?" Villanelle directed the question at Kitetails who suddenly began to look nervous again.

"I-I don't know. I'm not sure I really want a trine. Um…no offence Stormcell…"

The youngling huffed distastefully, "You two have to be the weirdest Seekers ever. How can you not want a trine?"

"You'll only get in the way of my life's work," Disparage grouched.

Kitetails shifted her gaze back to Villanelle, "And I don't plan on staying with the Decepticons. Sorry."

It gave Villanelle some peace of mind to hear that. But only a little.

"You guys can go now, if you'd like," Kitetails mumbled when the awkward silence drug on too long. Disparage hardly waited for her sentence to end before he was airborne again. Stormcell followed after him quickly, ranting on about how the older mech was broken if he didn't want a trine.

"Curious friends you're making," Villanelle commented.

Kitetails nodded, "They don't really fit in either. Stormcell is too young for the others to pay attention to him, and Disparage is just…weird."

"How so?" Villanelle quirked an optic ridge.

"He has a crazy obsession with the color blue. It actually really creeps anyone with blue paint out," her small sigh turned into an airy chuckle, "Especially Thundercracker. But he's not mean or anything. He just isn't very…socially acceptable."

The sniper hummed thoughtfully and they fell into silence until it became too much for the fledgling to bear, "You don't like them do you…"

Instead of answering, she quickly changed the subject, "How are you fairing with your mentor?"

A bit of light returned to Kitetail's optics, "Thundercracker is really nice to me. He always finds ways for me to pass a lesson, even if it takes a little compromise. I feel like…he wants me to do well."

Villanelle gave an affirmative nod, "That is an important trait for a mentor to have."

"But you don't like him either…"

Evidently, this was not a topic they would be able to avoid today. And not for the first time since becoming Kitetail's liaison did Villanelle wish Powderain was here.

"Look," Villanelle forced a comforting hand onto the fledgling's shoulder. She was here to make sure the young femme was ok, after all, and right now she wasn't doing a very good job of it, "I'm pleased to be able to note that you are fitting in here. But I just…have a hard time with finding redeemable traits in…Seekers."

A shudder ran through Kitetail's rame, "So do you hate me?"

The Border Commander was taken aback, "Kitetails I don't—"

"Yes you do!" the fledgling shouted, strangling a sob, "It's always been that way! I'm a Seeker and that's all you see! That's the way everyone in Dolhearac sees me!"

Villanelle put her hands on her hips, "I don't know what crazy ideas your new _friends_ have been putting in your processors but I will _not_ stand for this nonsense! Who took you in when you were just a sparkling?"

Kitetails straightened, struggling to speak, "M-M-Magistrate Symmetr-try a-and Ariel."

"And who tutored you?! The one who taught you to embrace the fact that you were different, and would guard you with her very _life_ when anyone tried to tell you otherwise?!"

"P-Powderain…" she lowered her helm.

"And how many other femmes have you known in Dolhearac who would just sit and talk with you, or look out for you when your regular caretakers weren't available?!"

Kitetails just grunted in response and Villanelle finally got a hold of her emotions. The Border Commander closed her optics, counted, and then released the tension in her shoulders. This time, when she placed her hands on Kitetail's shoulders, it was in genuine care for the fledgling's well-being.

"I can tell you for a fact, that every one of those femmes would love nothing more than to never see another Seeker again, _except_ for you. I know it isn't exactly fair that we hate your…group, but still claim to love you. But I've met a lot of femmes since becoming your liaison whose lives have been touched by your optimism and perseverance, and who have told me how much that is missed in the capital sector.

"You are _loved_, Kitetails. And for many of us that love will never fade, no matter what you become."

The fledgling sniffled, looking away, "Sorry…"

A heavy sigh, "I'm sorry too. I wish….I wish that I didn't…dislike most Seekers as much as I do but…it's kinda ingrained into my programming at this point," she gave the fledgling a thoughtful look, "It's kind of what we were built for…"

"What?"

"You mean…they haven't told you that part yet," she shook her helm in confusion and Villanelle sighed sadly, "Sit down. We need to talk."

Kitetails did as she suggested, settling herself on the ground as Villanelle crouched across from her, collecting her thoughts, "Seekers were the first bots on Cybertron that were built to fly. At the time, they were also the most feared. Many bots wondered if they should have been built at all, if a group with that much power was safe to have around. To make matters worse, the Seekers started to get pretty cocky about it too. Changing their programming and structure in secret until there was no chance for them to be replicated.

"Somewhere along the line, the early province of Praxus decided Cybertron needed a counter measure…something to keep the Seekers in check. They started by training a group of highly specialized snipers. Mechs and femmes that were specially taught to shoot a Seeker right out of the sky."

Kitetails optics lit in recognition, "I sort of remember this story. Founding Magistrate Valkyrie was one of those snipers, wasn't she? But I never heard she was trained to kill…well…"

Villanelle nodded solemnly, "As I understand, Magistrate Symmetry…though it best to leave that part out of your history studies unless you happened across it on your own."

"That makes sense I guess," Kitetails murmured, "Ok. Go on."

"Valkyrie in particular was known to be a tenacious assassin of Seekers that got a little too troublesome. But she also realized how great a target that put on her back. She insisted on some upgrades that would give her an edge should she ever need to escape from a Seeker attack. She left Cybertron for inspiration, and returned vorns later to found a new province and build a new type of sniper with silent wings to glide away from danger undetected."

"And now we have Dolhearac!" Kitetails grinned.

"Indeed. For now at least," Villanelle sighed. The young Seekeress' smile faded.

"Is everything…ok?"

"I'm not sure how much I should tell you..."

The fledgling would have none of that and shifted closer, "Please?"

A weary sigh, "Two Dolhearan's were found to be deactivated. A group of Seekers has openly admitted to being the culprits."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Where is your leader! I demand to know this instant!" Powderain shouted as she stormed into the Decepticon base of operations. Her optics narrowed on the only mech present. Shockwave. Just her luck.

"I was wondering when you would show," the purple mech stated conversationally.

"Two of my people are dead. At the hands of those Pit-awful fliers you brought here," the Magistrate growled, "What is your game _this_ time Shockwave?"

"Oh not _my_ game, Magistrate," he explained, almost gently, "Lord Megatron decided this without any need of my advice. I think it best that you not see him now. He's rather displeased with you."

"So this will go unpunished then. I should have figured," Powderain sneered, jerking her helm away. Inwardly, however, her worst fears were coming to a boil.

"Lord Megatron has offered you this final ultimatum," at this she chanced a glance back at the violet Decepticon, "You may either allow your people to die gloriously on the battlefield, or die in shame of subjugation here, their screams of agony lost behind your precious walls."

"You will enslave us, then. That is your plan."

"Well it is _a_ plan. Mind you once that happens I will have no reason to keep my intel. of the Southern Spires our little secret…"

Powderain shook her helm, "To send you to the Pit would be a mercy…"

"You are in a dreadful state of emotional duress, Magistrate," Shockwave crooned in false sympathy, "Perhaps you should take some time to consider Lord Megatron's offer."

Powderain lowered her helm, "I am not your pawn, Shockwave. I will not be manipulated any longer."

"You shall, or you shall die," the mech warned.

But her frame was already slumped in defeat, "If I give in, it will never end. Send your Seekers forth. Turn the province upside-down. One orn of mourning is all I ask."

Shockwave snorted, "An orn to cry for your loss? What are you truly crafting, Magistrate? I'm quite curious."

"Grant me this final wish and perhaps you'll find out," she met his gaze evenly. There was a faint clicking as Shockwave ran the request through his leader. He continued to study her all the while. All he could read from her was her utter defeat. Whatever she had planned, he doubted it would be of much if any harm to the Decepticon cause. They would have to keep close tabs on her, though.

"Very well, Powderain. You may have your orn to cry. Use it wisely."

"You have my thanks," she turned to leave, heading straight towards her office. Many guards and errand runners paused to watch the weakened form of their leader pass, oblivious to their presence as she returned to her office and close the door. She stared at her desk a moment before languidly brushing all the datapads to the floor. She had no plan to save her people, but she knew someone who did.

"Schema," she muttered into the room, knowing that somehow the Archivist would hear her, "I have failed. I'm sorry…"

Shortly after, Sundew and Villanelle were called to her office. She cut off the latter's reports of a certain young Seekeress, insisting that there were dire matters to be covered.

"I will be brief," she began shortly after they settled with unease into the chairs across from her desk, "There is much I need to tell you…I feel I should explain."

"Magistrate, is everything alright?" Sundew asked lowly, his deeper voice still drawing a pause from her every time he spoke.

She shook her helm, "No. In fact…everything is all wrong." She almost lost what little self-control she had holding her together at that point, but managed to keep her expression straight, "I wish to explain to you two, my oldest friends, of how we came to be here.

"I was Border Commander for many vorns. As such, it was my job to oversee the interrogation of trespassers," she shook her helm, angry at herself, "But I should have known better…than to let my soldiers take in a prisoner who so clearly wanted to be caught, and with such a vile reputation."

The two across from her shared a glance before Villanelle spoke up, "Who was it?"

Powderain's visage hardened, "Shockwave."

A look of clarity came to Sundew's optics as he slumped back in his chair, "So…we were blackmailed into siding with the 'Cons…"

"He had evidence that we were to blame for the mass extermination of Seekers in the Southern Spires, a hard truth I had only learned recently in becoming an officer. Somehow he had learned of my popularity in the province as well. He...threatened to tell the Seekers the truth if I did not cooperate when the time came.

"I felt trapped. I was afraid of becoming Magistrate, but equally afraid of what strings would be pulled if I did not."

Villanelle frowned pensively, "And Wisp knew too, didn't she…"

"Yes, Wisp found out, being my superior officer, but had no proof to condemn me," a shudder ran through her frame, "She put a rifle to me three times, but could never finish it. I think she was just as scared as I was as to what would happen if I were no longer in the picture. And…Wisp never did take well to being powerless…"

Sundew lowered his optics, "Is the secret out?"

"Shortly…"

"What are we going to do?"

At this point, Powderain managed to raise her helm a little higher, "Sundew, I need you to send word out to all the population, civilian and military alike. We are taking a orn of mourning for Dolhearac. For what purpose, you may choose whatever you think the people will believe. What matters is that we get them into the district centers. Every last one of them. This is our last chance…"

Sundew rose from his chair, "What exactly are we going to do?"

"I have no answer for you," she sighed, "Schema does not deem it necessary that I know."

That was explanation enough for him, and he promptly left, already on his com. with his assistants. That left the Magistrate and the current Border Commander. Powderain could not meet Villanelle's optics, her face distraught.

"I am so sorry…"

"You should be," Villanelle muttered, shaking her helm, "I never thought….never thought you'd be capable of something like this…"

"Neither did I," she sighed, and quickly returned to business even though it looked as though it might tear her apart, "There is something you are needed for."

"And?"

"Schema has requested audience with you," she answered quickly.

Villanelle just sat there for a moment, "Me, Magistrate?"

"I'm sorry…"

"Powderain?"

"There's no time. You must go. Now."

She nodded slowly and turned for the exit, "She had better know what she's doing…"

"I fear she does, Villanelle."

The door closed, leaving the Border Commander only to wonder as she marched purposefully towards the lift that would take her to the Archivist's hidden sanctuary. As usual, it was dark and unguarded, coming to life only as she grew near enough to enter. With only a smidge of hesitancy, she stepped inside and waited as the lift carried her beyond the depths of the province and into the planet itself. The lift doors parted to a familiar room of stark white walls.

"Villanelle, thank you for joining us."


	8. Chapter 8: Unite

A/N: Read "Where Angels Fall" first if you haven't already, etc.

Short chapter. I would have written more, but I didn't want to force myself either XP This installment of the series is terrible really. It needs a rewrite. WAF needs to be rewritten to. Anyone up to help me edit/beta read for me?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 8: Unite**

Inwardly, Shockwave was feeling quite pleased with himself. Yes it was a terrible shame that all the mech-power in Dolhearac (if it could even be called that, the scrawny twits) would be all but decimated by the time Starscream was done with them. But…there was something to be said for the Air Commander's irate shrieking as he stormed around the room, barely able to keep himself on the ground. Something that just brought a little bit of light to his orn to think he could so easily stab Starscream's already too sensitive nerves. And all the more refreshing that he needed be on the lookout for an attack as the Seeker's anger wasn't directed at the messenger.

Megatron seemed less amused by his second's curse-laden tirade, though he did appear deep in thought. Soundwave was expressionless, as usual. Though the younger mech was perhaps sitting more rigidly than usual.

Starscream slammed his hands down on the table of the conference room they had decided to occupy with pure unadulterated murder in his optics, "And you say a _grounder_ built that atrocity?!"

"Indeed," Shockwave responded evenly, "Their former weapon's specialist, Plasmadrop. As I understand, she is currently imprisoned for crimes adjacent to the previous Magistrate's murder. Something about strapping a bomb to a young Seeker…my she really _does_ have it out for your kind, doesn't she?"

"Evidently," the Air Commander growled turning sharply to the door.

"Starscream…" Megatron called in warning. The Seeker glowered distastefully back over his shoulder.

"Yessss…"

"Leave the Gliders alone. They aren't worth our time."

The Seeker's wings twitched irately as he hissed, "I'm not after their kind just yet."

And with that, he was allowed to leave. Somewhere down the hall they could hear him yelling for someone to act as a messenger.

"I hope you're happy with yourself," Megatron muttered, turning his crimson gaze on Shockwave, "There will be no sparing them, now. It won't matter what I threaten that fool with, he'll have his revenge whether I order against it or not. And it is a terrible waste of all the effort we put into gaining the allegiance of this place."

"Trust me, milord, this 'partnership' is worth very little. When it comes time, we can hopefully direct Starscream's ire away from their industry at least. Then we shall have this entire province to ourselves."

That sated the warlord for now and he gave a solemn nod, "So they will be in mourning until then? Or so that Magistrate claims."

"She has little hope left, and she recognizes it," Shockwave confirmed, "But she hasn't the spark to try sabotage. Especially at the cost of her own."

"So what left is there for her to try," Megatron mused, folding his hands.

Soundwave tilted his helm in their direction, "Recent com. from Dolhearac Command: All civilians and Military to report to district centers."

"Is that so?" Megatron smirked, "Soundwave, how many of these centers are there, exactly?"

"District Centers equal five."

Shockwave nodded in confirmation, "Five domes throughout the province. Each marked by a glowing crystal."

"Energon crystals: gifts from founding Magistrate of Dolhearac," Soundwave elaborated.

Megatron gave him a look, "While I'm sure their history is fascinating, I'm more curious as to why she's trying to gather all the denizens into such small spaces. It's almost as though she's trying to make it easier for Starscream."

"Theory: they are trying to escape."

"In that case, they had better have a destination in mind."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Villanelle glanced around Schema's quaint domain with suspicion. For some reason, the lack of clues to what the Archivist could need her for was disappointing. The walls were just as stark and white as they were the first and only time she had ever been here, and Schema looked so calm, one would never guess that the province she was designated to look after from afar was in danger of burning to ashes.

"So what's the plan? Do you know how we can get out of this mess?"

The softly smiling Archivist beckoned her close, "You are worried for Dolhearac?*"

"Of course I am!" Villanelle snapped back, "You aren't?!"

Something changed in Schema's otherwise very peaceful expression. Something the Border Commander couldn't place, "Always."

"Then why haven't you done anything?" she nearly shouted, but her voice faltered as she was again reminded of whom she was speaking to. With no level-headed superior to hold her back, it was hard to keep her frustrations in check. Her home was falling apart! And no one seemed to be ready to take a stand a fight for it before it was too late!

"Our machinations are already in motion. But _one_ piece is missing."

Villanelle stiffened as the Archivist gazed intently back at her, "What do you want from _me_?"

"It is our will that you join us."

Schema leaned her helm back, shutting off her optics, and before another question could be raised, the lights dimmed and countless holograms of data were presented before the bemused Border Commander. They were profiles, she realized, data on femmes throughout Dolhearac's history. Different faces, ranks, skill sets flashed before her optics. Finally she turned again to Schema, looking more puzzled than ever.

The Archivist's appearance in the face of all these screens startled her as well. She looked physically the exact same as ever, yet there was a weariness to her that overpowered everything else. She looked so…tired, as though her job were taking a massive toll on her very spark, as if the weight of the world had been bearing down on her for a very long time.

"There have been many Schema," the white femme barely whispered. Was that…regret that tainted her voice?

Realization dawned on Villanelle's optics as she again looked at the information presented to her. She shuddered as the files were shifted, revealing portraits of the same femmes, but now each one baring Schema's cheek disks and lack of paint. Different faceplates, different optics, even slightly different expressions. But all were an extension of the same femme.

Or they had been at one time.

"We average 3.7 for every Magistrate's rule," Schema explained emotionlessly, "With increasing statistic for every age of Dolhearac's development. The common Cybertronian processor is not designed to filter data as we do. Our constant protection and organization of the archives runs the circuits raw, and leads to early deactivation."

"That's…terrible," Villanelle admitted.

"It is a misfortune we have willingly accepted in return for protecting our people."

The Border Commander shifted uneasily. This white room was feeling suddenly too small, "And you think I…should be the next one in line?"

"Your ties to the world are few, though your loyalty runs deep. These are the traits we have always possessed. If you were to disappear, it would be attributed the Decepticon presence. None would know where you have really gone. It is necessary that you vanish without a trace, and none go to find you."

"But Kitetails—"

"Has a choice to make," Schema sighed, "Dolhearac's time is running dry, and the Magistrate has failed to act. It has come to us to solve the plight, but first we must ensure Dolhearac's Legacy will be preserved."

"And what's your plan?"

Schema looked pointedly at her, "When you join us, you will know all we have ever known."

She fidgeted anxiously, "That's a tall order."

"We would not have asked if we thought you wouldn't accept."

"You're really that sure?"

Schema smiled knowingly, "We have a perfect track record."

Villanelle looked again at the files around her as the portraits again shifted back to the femmes they had been before they were Schema. With so many bots willing to give up everything to keep Dolhearac safe, it would be selfish of her to refuse. And perhaps she didn't have much to live for on the surface other than her province…

But that did nothing to quell her fears…

"Who are you? Apart from Schema?" she asked quietly, turning her attention to the white femme again.

The Archivist looked puzzled for a moment before her optics flickered in understanding, "You speak of the Schema Imperial. She whose frame sits before you?"

The holographic files were all swept away except for one with face plates that matched the femme's in front of her exactly. Villanelle read over the file closely, occasionally glancing up at the patiently waiting Archivist before nodding solemnly.

"How do I start?"


	9. Chapter 9: Enough is Enough

A/N: Read "Where Angels Fall" first if you haven't already, etc.

A warning that this chapter has some description of robot-gore in it. Ye have been warned.

Also, for at least the first two parts of this chapter, I recommend you open another tap to Youtube and listen to "The Truth" by Audiomachine. The song isn't quite long enough, so you may need to use Youtuberepeat or something to that effect. I just think the song is really fitting for these scenes ;)

Hope your holiday shopping is going well, and Merry Christmas!

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 9: Enough is Enough**

By this point, Powderain was willing to do anything to pacify the enraged Air Commander, and so when he asked for the femme ultimately responsible for the mess at the Southern Spires, Plasmadrop was unceremoniously handed off to the Seekers without another word. The inventor seemed accepting of her fate, walking numbly wherever they led her until she came to a wide room where many Seekers had gathered just to see her punished. In the center stood the red and white Decepticon second-in-command himself, and he made no secret of his anger.

She was shoved before him, bound with a lowered helm. Those gathered could see the fear plainly in her optics as reality came down on her.

This was it…

Starscream sneered down at the femme in disgust, "Beg for mercy all you want. You won't get any."

Plasmadrop tensed, then seemed to consider something as she slowly lifted her helm, "No. I'm not going to beg. I'm through with being weak."

"What?"the Decepticon leaked some confusion into his tone.

"I'm not gonna beg!" she repeated with a bark, vocalizer hoarse from a lack of use and repair, "You can do whatever you want to me, tear me limb from limb and make me scream my vocalizer raw! But I won't plead for you to stop! I won't ask for you to spare my life because I deserve everything you can throw at me!

"I've hurt a lot of bots in my life. A lot of innocent bots all in the name of my own selfish ambition. And in my cowardice, I caused even more suffering. I should suffer for _every-thing_ I've done, to pay for all the pain I've caused, even though I know it'll never be enough!"

She lowered her helm again, her tone bitter and cold, "Draw it out as long as you want. Death is too good for me…"

The Seeker stared down at her defeated frame in contempt, "It appears we have a common understanding then. Take your last comforts from the fact that your wish will be granted in full."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She didn't understand. But as time ticked by, she quickly realized she didn't want to. The horrid screams echoing down the corridors to the rec. room had urged Kitetails into a corner again. All the adults were gone, as were many of the other fledglings who had followed the sounds out of curiosity. Even Stormcell and Disparage had left to find the source of the wretched cries and not returned. She had no such interest in whatever was going on down there, and it showed in her trembling frame at each muffled shriek that reached her audios accentuated by the rising cacophony of an angry mob.

She wondered if her worst fears were being realized. If Starscream had finally lost patience and was going to declare war on Dolhearac.

The young femme would have left if she could, but Thundercracker had instructed her to stay here and wait for him. Slaggin' youngling programming… She tried to send a com. to the mech, begging him to let her get away from the terrible noises, but he wouldn't answer.

Finally the clamor died down. Kitetails lifted her helm from her hands to see two Seekers standing in the doorway. Without a moment's hesitation they gestured for her to follow them, and reluctantly she left the room. To her horror, they led her right towards where those horrible noises had been coming from. They entered an open room where she was immediately the attention of more Seekers than she could hope to count. Starscream stepped forward, looking down at her sternly.

"We have some interesting information to report to you," he began grimly as she found her optics drawn to the energon spattered over his frame, "It's about the Southern Spires."

She lifted her optics back up to his faceplates with a frown, "Ok…"

"It was not a virus that destroyed your home," he began solemnly, "It has come to my attention that Dolhearac was responsible."

Kitetails narrowed her optics at him, "If you've drilled nothing else into my processors, it's that Dolhearans can never stand toe-to-toe with Seekers. And now all of a sudden you think they brought down an entire city?"

Starscream glared at her as a few of the others chuckled darkly, "I assure you youngling, they had some…help."

At this point he and a few of the others stepped aside, and she suppressed an undignified squeak.

"P-P-Plasma-d-drop?" she wanted desperately to look away, but her optics stubbornly refused until they had soaked up every last detail of the grisly scene.

The inventor was barely conscious, kept upright only by Thundercracker holding her by the collar of her damaged armor, or at least what hadn't been stripped off and now lay as shredded scraps on the floor. The limbs on her right side were missing, and those on the left hung by mere wires. Energon oozed out onto the floor and her optics flickered and exposed processor sparked. Kitetails didn't care that she was beginning to shake.

"Their inventor earned her position by developing a magnetic-field generator that was planted at the base of the Southern Spires, leading to such disorientation and pandemonium that many died and the Spires were promptly abandoned," Starscream explained, unfazed by the ragged jilting of the grounder's systems in the otherwise silent room, "The mere fact that she built such a machine is cause enough to warrant a death sentence, but add that to the number of lives lost and displaced by her device, I cannot make it clear enough the wrong she has done."

Kitetails twitched her wings nervously as the Air Commander continued, "However, we have reached the breaking point, and she can take no more. Seeing as you are perhaps the most _adversely_ affected victim of this incident," he pressed a gun into her trembling hands, "I thought it fair that you strike the final blow."

The fledgling moved to shake her helm, but Starscream grabbed her hands before she could drop the gun and flee.

"This is the duty I give to you as a Seeker. This is your chance to prove yourself and show me you're ready to be an adult. You will earn the freedom to make your own decisions. To choose if you want to join me and be among the greatest of Cybertronians, or return to Dolhearac and die with the Gliders you're so fond of."

Kitetails wished she could refuse that kind of ultimatum. Yet the prospect of freedom made her reconsider, as sickening as the cost would be.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to be free of Starscream, the judging gaze of her presumed peers, and the continuous reminder that she wasn't good enough to stand beside any of them. She was tired of being a Seeker. If behaving as one, just this once, would earn her that right…

Her feet were already moving her forward, albeit slowly. Around her the assemblage of Seekers raised their voices in a cruel combination of taunts and encouragement that she didn't need and tried to tune out.

She had given herself as little to think about as possible by the time she had arrived before the dying grounder. Repeatedly she reminded herself that Plasmadrop would be killed whether or not it was her own doing. Still, Kitetails hands continued to tremble as she lifted the gun to aim at the grounder's exposed spark chamber.

The dimming white optics of her target seemed to gain a little more focus, though she had no strength to raise her helm to greet the new comer. Kitetails paused as she realized they were looking at her foot.

"So this is how it ends…" Plasmadrop rasped, causing the fledgling Seekeress to jump back in alarm, "A dark irony, hmph. Fitting."

It was one thing to shoot something she had been trying to convince herself was already dead, but all of a sudden she wasn't sure she could bring herself to pull the trigger. Kitetails looked up at Thundercracker helplessly. Her mentor just stared back, expectant, and giving no clue to the fact that _he_ wasn't even sure what to feel at this moment.

_'You don't have to look,'_ his com. buzzed in her helm.

The advice was oddly comforting, so she kept her optics focused on Thundercracker's. Her hands stilled and her processor went blank save for one thought.

She had had _enough_.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Given recent events, the roar of jet engines was not a welcome sound to the already paranoid Dolhearans that had dared to stay within the government complex of Dolhearac. In fact, the erraticly-flying Seeker would have been shot if Powderain didn't immediately recognize her small size and color scheme, giving a panicked order to her femmes to lower their weapons.

Kitetails was searching for her and made a prompt nose-dive, transforming and landing on her knees before the grateful but worried Magistrate. The fledgling was in evident distress and was at once surrounded by wary onlookers. Powderain paid them all no heed, kneeling by the Seekeress' side and pulling her into a desperate embrace. Kitetails choked back a sob, clinging to her former mentor just as tightly.

"What did they do to her?" one of those gathered fretted.

Hearing the collection of voices around her, Kitetails quickly pulled away, looking into Powderain's face-plates, barely able to speak, "He's going to kill us—All of us. I-I don't know what to do!"

"Hush. Hush, now. It will be alright," Powderain soothed, taking the sides of the younger femme's faceplates in her hands, "Just come with us…We have one last chance."

"We do? For what?" her systems sputtered from stress as they were both helped back to their feet.

"To escape. Now come. Quickly. There's not much time left."

The collection of Dolhearans and their returned Seekeress proceeded to barricade themselves in the central gathering place of the government complex. Many cried, others paced irritably, ranting that they should be planning a counter strike. Kitetails stuck close to Powderain's side as the Magistrate put on her best veil of calm control.

"So…we don't know what Schema is going to do to us, do we?" the fledgling femme asked pensively as her optics darted around the room. She had been here a thousand times before, but…something seemed different. And not just because everyone was slowly turning into a paranoid wreck.

"I haven't the slightest idea. But I trust our Archivist to do what's best."

"Hmm…"

She continued looking around, her gaze focusing on the large energon crystal that took up the center of the room, "It's kind of funny…" she began slowly, talking more to avoid the silence and the dark thoughts within it than anything else, "This room kind of reminds me of Skywarp's warp drive."

Powderain's optics flickered in surprise as she turned to face her, "Come again?"

"Skywardp he's…one of the Seekers I was around a lot. This room kind of has the same set-up as the device that lets him warp…except, you know, it's a gazillion times bigger."

"A warp-drive…" the Magistrate's optics widened, "Is that even…possible?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Villanelle watched with morbid curiosity as the mixture of her cream and tan paint and the acid used to remove it spiraled down the drain of a hidden room adjacent to Schema's audience chamber. A ceremonial washing, the Archivist called it. A removal of all she was as an individual so that she could fully become a part of something greater.

She was rinsed and dried by the room's machinery, archaic contraptions by surface standards. Schema watched sullenly all the while. This was the final step, and they would be ready to trade places…or whatever it was that took place when a new Schema was chosen. They had already removed Villanelle's now unnecessary armor coverings down to the barest basics, as well as systems and programs she would no longer need. Every one was removed with a methodical reverence by the Archivist's steady hands.

"Are you ready?" she asked at last, looking Villanelle over appraisingly.

A pause, "I believe so."

"Come with me."

They returned back into the stark white room, and its data-laced walls. Schema instructed her to take the only seat in the room, and she did so. The Archivist stood before her, a smile that was almost sad on her face.

"Guard them well," she instructed, gently unattaching the glowing disks from her cheeks and placing them upon their new owner.

They sat up straight, as the one called Villanelle joined a chorus of other voices. Schema looked down calmly at the white-plated femme before them and nodded, "We will keep watch. You know what you must do."

The femme bowed low and scampered off, her joints creaking in protest from lack of use. Down another secret passage, from the sanitary white of Schema's chamber to a room so dark, you could not see the walls. Only a center switch was illuminated, under which was carved the Dolhearan Proverb:

_'Deathly shadows in the sky  
Far beyond whoever spy  
We will glide and we will fly  
Disappearing way up high_

_Remember always what's been taught_  
_Of the assassins and their thought_  
_What isn't there, cannot be caught_  
_Disappearing though they're sought_

_Recall to where Valkyrie takes flight_  
_Out of mind is out of sight_  
_Ever guided by the light_  
_Disappearing in the night'_

The femme smiled, brushing some rust from the unused mechanism, "Disappear, my beloved. Disappear into the night."

The switch was pulled, and from the city centers, a blinding light shone forth. It lasted for a few klicks as startled screams were lost to the sound of silence. Then slowly the light faded off to embers, leaving the Dolhearan Province dark and dead and empty.


End file.
